Idiots
by You Can Call Me Effie
Summary: All Sherlock and Laura snippets. Sherlock Holmes is persistently pestered by a nuisance that calls herself Laura Black. Will be updated. Romance is improbable. Warning: There's probably something you should be warned about so be warned. Yeah.
1. Script

(SH= Sherlock Holmes)

(LB= Laura Black)

(JW= John Watson)

LB: *staring at the smiley face spray painted into the wall* Sherlock.

SH: *absent minded* Hm?

LB: *not blinking or looking away* Your wall is smiling at me.

SH: *not caring* Yes.

[Silence]

LB: Sherlock?

SH: *absent, slightly irritated* Hm?

LB: It's still smiling at me.

SH: *exasperated* Than turn around.

LB: 'Kay.

[Silence]

LB: Sherlock?

SH: *irritated* I told you to turn around if the face was bothering you.

LB: No, it's not that.

SH: Than what is it?

LB: ...I'm bored.

SH: *sighs and turns* What do you mean you're bored?

LB: *exasperated* I mean I'm bored. The sky is blue, the earth goes around the sun, and I. Am. BORED.

SH: *perplexed* The earth orbits the sun?

LB: *raises eyebrows* What?

SH: *exasperated* The earth. Around the sun.

LB: *disbelieving* Oh my god.

SH: *confused* Not quite.

LB: *pretends she doesn't hear that* You don't know...

SH: Obviously, I wouldn't be asking if I did. *pompous eyeroll*

LB: *disbelieving laughter* Oh, you're kidding!

SH: *confused, wondering if erratic behavior is because of PMS* No... No, I'm not.

LB: *shocked* But, you must be!

SH: *embarrassed but trying to hide it, irritated eyeroll* Nothing about this situation is even remotely humorous!

LB: *cackling madly*

SH: Ugh. *calls impartial third party (John)*

LB: *still giggling, but calming down* What are you doing?

SH: Calling John.

LB: *pretends to be hurt* Why? I thought we were having fun.

SH: I'm calling to ask whether the earth actually revolves around the sun.

LB: *stunned silence for a few seconds, then doubles over in laughter* OH MY GOD

SH: Will you stop saying that? Never mind, shut up, John's picking up.

JW: Helloooo?

SH: ...Are you drunk?

LB: *laughs harder*

JW: Meeeebeeeeee! Wassup?

SH: ...How about I call you later.

JW: Nuuu, c'mon, mate! You called for a reason! Lez 'ear it.

SH: *tactless as usual* Laura tells me the earth revolves around the sun. Is that true?

LB: *still laughing, now leaning on Sherlock's mantel next to Billy*

SH: *not looking away* If you touch my skull, I'm tying you to that chair.

JW: Ooo, mate, kinky. Di'n't know ya had it in you!

SH: What? No! Just answer the question so I can hang up, you're acting stupider than usual.

JW: A'righ', a'righ', Sherly, keep yer pants on. Yep.

SH: "Yep" what? And don't call me Sherly!

JW: Yep. The earth does go 'round the sun.

SH: ...

JW: *confused and slightly impatiant* 'Appy?

LB: *pops up behind Sherlock* Yep!

SH: *disgruntled* No. *hangs up*

[Slightly awkward silence]

LB: ...So... *turns toward Sherlock with Cheshire grin*

SH: *not meeting her eyes* No.

LB: *ignores* Sherly, huh?

SH: *glares at lap* No.

LB: *smirking internally* How come I don't get to call you something cute?

SH: Stop it.

LB: Lockster.

SH: Shut up.

LB: Sher-Sher?

SH: *disgusted face*

LB: Okay, fine, no nicknames.

SH: Thank you.

LB: Holmie.

SH: *groans*


	2. Argument

I was bored. I was bored, and we weren't on a case. I was bored, we weren't on a case, Sherlock was on the computer, and the wall was smiling at me like a pervert. Great

After having an intense staring contest with said wall (I lost, but only because John distracted me. Apparently, he's taking a pretty girl he met at the hospital to a nightclub. Won't last, she's a bit dim, cut her hand on a cheese grater for a dare), I sighed loudly from my upside-down position on the couch.

"Sherlock," I said, slightly pitifully.

"Hmm?" He didn't look up. I pouted.

"The wall is smiling at me."

"Yes," he mumbled, not even paying attention.

The blood was starting to rush to my head. Either I was going insane, or the smile just winked at me.

"Sherlock?" I asked, incredibly creeped out.

"Hmm?" He still didn't turn.

"It's still smiling at me. And I think it winked."

"Sit normally and it might stop." Really? HOW DOES HE KNOW I'M UPSIDE DOWN IF HE DIDN'T EVEN TURN AROUND?

I glared at the wall. It just grinned back.

"Sherlock."

"What, Laura?" I smirked, but quickly stopped when the wall kept leering at me.

"The wall is being a pervert. I think it wants to do the do."

He turned around in slight shock at what I'd just said. I smiled innocently back.

"JOHN! SHE'S ACTING SCARED OF THE WALL AGAIN!" Um, ow.

"John left, Sherlock. Half an hour ago," I told him, smirking. The smirk fell quickly though. "AND I'M NOT ACTING! THAT WALL IS A PEDOPHILE AND I AM IT'S PREY!"

"You are 25 years old-"

"TIMMY DOESN'T KNOW THAT!"

There was a rather awkward pause, while me, Timmy, and Sherlock stared at each other cautiously. Somehow, I ended up under the coffee table.

Sherlock decided to break the silence.

"...You named my wall 'Timmy'?" he asked, incredulously. I nodded.

Another pause.

He sighed. "You aren't dull, but you're slightly stupid."

I bristled. Excuse him. "What?" I asked, trying to make my voice sound threatening.

He quirked a brow. "Oh, don't say you are deaf as well." Oh, it's on.

"At least I know basic astronomy."

"Astronomy isn't important-"

"It's FIRST GRADE."

"You're first grade."

...

Wait. Does that... Did he... My eyes widened. "Are you saying I'm EASY?!"

Apparently, the man had some sense of what you are probably not supposed to say to a woman, because his eyes widened and he quickly tried to backtrack.

"No, that is absolutely not what I am saying. Though I could be perceived that way from an outside standpoint-"

"SO YOU'RE SAYING THAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK I'M EASY!" This was kind of fun. Sherlock didn't really seem to think so. His eyes widened a bit more.

"No! That is not what I was saying either! I was merely insinuating your lack of intelligence-"

"Oh, because that's SO MUCH BETTER!"

"It IS!"

"NO IT ISN'T!"

"JOHN!"

"HE'S NOT BLOODY HERE, CURLY!"

"WELL, WHY NOT?"

"MAYBE BECAUSE, UNLIKE YOU, HE ACTUALLY ENJOYS SPENDING TIME WITH FEMALES!"

"WELL, MAYBE, THE ONLY FEMALE I DO NOT ENJOY SPENDING TIME WITH IS YOU!" He glared at me. I glared back.

"You know what? FUCK YOU, HOLMES!"

I left the flat, all the while thinking that that was not the way that was supposed to go down.

Shit.


	3. Not Good?

All right. Here's what's happened since I calmly left (read; angrily stormed out of) 221B about a week ago.

Sherlock and I were on speaking terms again. After he begged and pleaded for me to come back (read; I came after it became too impractical for me to remain outside-it was hailing-and had come back to the flat to find a cup of hot chocolate in my favorite reindeer mug and a first grade astronomy assignment on the coffee table with a note at the bottom saying it was both easy and stupid, but more than anything necessary. I took that as an apology), I finally came back to make sure the poor soul wouldn't do something drastic (read; find a new gorgeous, red-headed flat mate with a stunning personality and a talent for trying his patience). I, being the caring and sisterly flat mate, had to make sure he wouldn't do something we'd both regret (read; I will forever feel threatened by Amy Pond).

Anyway, since we were back on speaking terms and I had acquired a cold from standing outside during a hail storm, which was all Sherlock's fault, I was now being taken care of by the lovely ladies' man known as Doctor John Watson! That brings us to where we are now, my dear imaginary friends, as I am internally narrating everything happening from my sickbed! Er...couch.

"Laura, what on earth are you doing?" I heard. It took a moment, but I was able to focus on a face in front of me. I blinked at John.

"What?"

He sighed and I could see he almost rolled his eyes. I pouted. I thought he was supposed to be the nice one.

"You've been making odd faces at my wall for the past ten minutes and seventeen seconds," Sherlock interjected from his seat near his laptop. He turned his head and smirked at my scowl. "And it seems you haven't stopped."

I retract my earlier statement. John is the nicest, kindest man in this flat. I'll buy him reindeer socks and a jumper for Christmas. Sherlock will get nothing. NOTHING BUT COAL.

Apparently, my thoughts showed on my face (I was staring at John's clothing), because Sherlock smirked wider and said,"John, Laura's going to get you-"

My eyes widened.

"SHUT UP SHERLY ITS A SECRET!" I shrieked, lunging out of my couch burrito and attempting to slap a hand over Sherlock's mouth. Keep in mind, I was covered in blankets and Sherlock's duvet (What? It's not like he uses it. I was doing him a favor. Yep.) and dressing gown, with John's jumper underneath (so what, I take their things, shut up), trying to run.

Long story short, the living room now looked like a blanket-fort gone wrong, I tripped halfway through the pile, miscalculated where I would land, ended up sprawled on the floor with my hand twisted up behind me after my bracelet got caught in the button of Sherlock's stupid Armani suit jacket.

There was a silence.

Sherlock snickered.

Snickered.

Shooting him and John dirty looks (John had been just snorting away to himself since I had fallen. He's getting coal now, too.), I tried climbing to my feet without dislocating my shoulder (that jacket may or may not accidentally end up in the fireplace later, but you didn't hear it from me), I stood and tried to get his button out of my bracelet.

Why I have the mind of a sexually inept teenage boy, I do not know.

"John, could you get my jewelry pliers?" I asked stiffly, cutting him a glare. John's laughter cut off and he looked at me sheepishly. I looked toward the toilet pointedly. "Pliers? Please?"

He scratched the back of his head.

"Er, yeah, right. Where are they?" I sighed and gave him a small smile.

"First cupboard, third shelf, bottom right." He smiled back, nodded and left.

"Um, you're welcome?" Some people are just so ungrateful. After I took the time out of my busy schedule to give him directions! I sighed. Kids these days.

Yes, he is like ten years older than me.

"They're your pliers," Sherlock pointed out. I glared up from where I was crouched around that STUPID TOP BUTTON.

"And your point is?" He rolled his eyes. "You know what? This is all your fault," I sniffed, turning pointedly back to my bracelet. I could probably just cut the button, if I got the angle right.

"My fault?" Sherlock spluttered. "How is the fact that you tried to tackle me and missed, getting your bracelet caught in my jacket my fault?" I felt my cheeks go warm and glared at him again.

"You provoked me."

"I did not provoke you!"

"'Oh Johnny baby, I know what our gorgeous sexy flatmate who if far more intelligent than Irene Adler got you for Christmas darling!'"

Okay, so I might have exaggerated, both in voice and content, but you and I both know that's what he meant. Sherlock, meanwhile, just looked embarrassed.

"Firstly, the fact that you are implying I have romantic feelings for John is not true." I smirked.

"I wasn't implying that. People say things like 'darling' and 'babe' all the time to their friends. I say it to you guys." He flushed further.

"Yes, but you're female."

I raised my eyebrows.

Did he just.

"Sherlock, we just made up and it's Christmas, do you really want to argue right now?"

"Technically, it's Christmas Eve-"

"Sherlock."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"Thank you."

We sat in silence until John came back.

"Why do you need jewelry pliers anyway?"

I raised an eyebrow and jerked my bracelet arm a bit. I flinched. Ow.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know that, but you," he said, pointing to Sherlock, "could just take your jacket off so you," he pointed at me,"could just unhook the clasp."

I stared at him. "Wha-"

"I know," said Sherlock. I could legitimately hear the smirk in his voice.

I jerked my head up to look at Sherlock. "You KNOW?"

He rolled his eyes. Again. "Of course I know."

I blinked at him in confusion. "Than why didn't you say anything?"

He blinked back and shrugged, tugging my arm up slightly with his movement. Wow, his shirt is really soft. I'll have to take (ahem, borrow) it later.

"You were amusing me."

I glared. Oh. "So you decided to keep my arm trapped to your chest at a very uncomfortable angle because I was AMUSING YOU?" He looked a bit sheepish.

"Not good?" I am so taking that shirt.

I smiled through gritted teeth. "Not good."

"Maybe 'not good' will be your 'always'."

We jerked our heads in John's direction in horror and indignation. "JOHN!"

He smirked at us. "Not good?"


	4. Jim from IT (Bee Gees)

I looked at at the man leaning on a table beside me and tilted my head slightly.

"You know, you strike me as the type of guy who secretly has a thing for disco."

Jim from IT turned to me, raising his eyebrows, presumably taken aback at my sudden comment. I shrugged. He' get used to it eventually, if he plans on sticking with Molly. And if he doesn't, he will be forcibly castrated.

"Disco?"

I jumped a bit, having forgotten he was still here. He seemed rather frightened of me, actually. Had I said any of that out loud?

"Yes, Laura, you did. Forced castration really isn't your worst," Sherlock cut in. "I think you'll find the time you threatened me with a pair of jewelry pliers on Christmas Eve was the most gruesome."

I snorted. That was a good Christmas.

Noting Jim's suddenly sickly complexion, John decided to be boring and reasonable. "Guys, you're scaring Molly's new boyfriend."

Jim's cleared his throat, eyes kind of flashing with something for a second, but then whatever it was was gone.

How odd. "Hey, Jimmy boy, your eyes kinda went freaky for a sec there-"

"So disco?" he interrupted, bringing back the previously interrupted conversation. Interrupt one to finish another one. People are weird.

"Yeah," I said, studying him closely. He shifted a bit under me gaze, unnerved probably. I wouldn't blame him. I've been told my eyes are unnaturally large. By Sherlock, mostly, but I assume he means unnaturally beautiful.

Cue hair flip.

Jim cleared his throat. "Um, you gonna elaborate, or...?"

Oh! I grinned.

Yeah, I got it.

"Bee Gees!"

He coughed. "Excuse me?"

"I think you have a massive thing for the Bee Gees but just won't admit it." I said, nodding to myself proudly and patting myself on the back.

Jim, who has not yet become accustomed to my mannerisms, looked at me like I'd lost my mind and turned to John for help. I shrugged again. They always think I'm the weird one at first, but that usually stops after they meet one of the Holmes brothers.

Who are 'they' you ask?

Everyone I have ever met.

In answer to Jimbo's silent question regarding my sanity, John shrugged. How rude! And here I was thinking we were friends. Who's Jim to judge anyway? He tried flirting with Sherlock! Honestly, if neither John, I, or Molly had gotten anywhere with that, what made this jimmy boy think he had a chance?

Then again, Molly and I are both female, and Sherlock does seem rather close to John...

"Laura, are you contemplating my sexuality again?" Sherlock asked, his voice unexpectedly close to my ear. I jumped and turned around, smacking his arm. "Sherlock, for fucks sake, do you mind not giving me a heart attack?"

He rolled his eyes. "Since you're very obviously still alive and standing in front of me, I can conclude you are exaggerating."

I pouted. "How do you know I'm not a ghost and my body's not in one of those bags over there?" I asked, pointing to the table Molly was working at.

Sherlock grabbed my finger and brought it in between our faces. "Well there's the fact that I can touch you," he started, wiggling my finger for emphasis and then dropping it when I made a suggestive 'oh?' noise. "And for another thing, the supernatural is just the human minds misguided way of explaining things they don't understand so that they may continue to live in the illusion that they know everything."

I blinked up at him. "What."

Sherlock rolled his eyes again and put his hand on the small of my back, leading me out the door of the morgue. "John, we're leaving. Stop flirting with Molly's obviously gay boyfriend and bring Laura's coat."

John blanched, stuttering out a "I'm so sorry about him- I wish I could say he means well but he, he doesn't- so sorry- I have to go" to which Jimmy dodger (ha) replied with a wink, a wave, and a "I hope to see you soon~" as John quickly followed us out the door.

John, looking vaguely uncomfortable, gave Sherlock my coat and he helped me put it on. I was still trying to process the absurdity that was that day.

John turned to Sherlock, looked at him for a minute, and said exasperatedly, "This is why we don't have any friends."

I promptly burst out laughing and had to be piggy backed home by Mr. John Watson.

It was a good day.


	5. Misunderstanding

I blinked. "You want me to what?"

"I want you to be my date for my brother's New Year's Eve party." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I didn't expect you to be this dim when I agreed to let you live in this flat."

I didn't know what to be more offended over. "Wha- hold on a minute, you agreed? Let me? I don't even live here! I live in 221C!"

"You do?" Seriously, Sherly? I raised you better than this.

"Yeah! Since we met!"

"Than why do I see you here every day?" He tilted his head and stared at me. Wow, those eyes are terrifying. Make him stop. "You use my bed and when you don't you're awake and bothering me."

"You see me here every day because my flat's boring and yours has a skull." I began. "I've only used your bed if I was drunk or too tired to go downstairs or the time that one guy broke into my flat and tried to kill me. And I bother you because we're friends and friendship means I can bother you whenever I want to!" Honestly, Holmes, get a grip.

He didn't blink. "I do not agree with your definition of friendship."

How dare he.

"Well, I don't agree to being your date." Ha! That'll show him. He looked kind of offended. Oh. Might've shown him too hard.

"Why not?" I was torn between slapping myself in the face or slapping him. Calm down, Laura. Do not hit the stupid genius currently invading your personal space. But seriously? 'Why not' he says.

"Because we're not dating!"

"Define dating." My eyes widened.

"Oh no." I said, holding up both of my hands and backing further into the couch. "No no no no no. John told me what happened the last time you had a question about dating." He flushed slightly.

"That was a misunderstanding."

"I highly doubt you're understanding the implications of what you're asking me right now."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "There are no implications."

"Keep looking, doll. You're smart. You'll find them."

He rolled his eyes again. "You know very well that I seek no romantic or sexual relationship from you-"

"Ew! Wait, what's wrong with me, ya punk?"

"-Or anyone else. However, if you would like me to list all of your negative attributes-"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks." No need to tear down my ego, ya dick. "So, if you aren't harboring some weird secret crush on your gorgeous semi-flatmate, than why do you want me to go to Mycroft's stuffy old party with you?"

He rolled his eyes again. You know, one day his eyes are gonna get stuck like that and I will laugh extremely obnoxiously. "I am asking you to accompany me to the New Year's Eve party so that I don't look suspicious as I look for the Woman."

Oh. Duh. "Well, why didn't you just start with that?"

He scrutinized me. "So you will come?"

I snorted. "Hell no, Bellatrix scares the shit out of me."

He squinted. "Bella-?"

"I'll tell you later." This poor child doesn't even know Harry Potter and after this stupid case thing is over and Adler inevitably escapes after harming Sherlock, John, me, or all of the above in some misguided way to gain Sherlock's affection, we are so having a movie marathon.

He nodded, getting back on topic. "That is unpleasant. Unfortunately, as I have already acquired your dress and invitation, you are going anyway."

I crossed my arms. This bitch. "Take Molly."

"That would just put her under the impression that I hold romantic feelings toward her."

I furrowed my brow. "Don't you?"

"No." He rolled his eyes again. Seriously? He rolls his eyes more than a teenage girl who's just discovered punk music. "We just had a conversation about my complete disinterest in romantic partnership."

"Wait, so if you thought emotional complications would arise if you asked her, why ask me? Isn't that more awkward, considering we basically live together?"

Sherlock shrugged. "You are naturally awkward, so that wouldn't have made a difference. Also, John didn't fit in the dress."

I snorted and burst out laughing.


	6. Another misunderstanding

So, the party didn't go as well as I'd hoped.

It started off great, which should've tipped me off, as these things never start off great. Sherlock had actually picked out a really nice dress, much to my surprise . It was long and red and had a pretty low back but it had long sleeves so that balanced it out. It was also slightly stretched from when John tried it on, but I could live with that.

The problems arose with the shoes. "You want me to wear those?"

Sherlock tilted his head slightly. "You like these types of shoes."

I threw a lip liner at him and then realized I needed it back. "You got me stripper heels!"

"The woman at the shop told me they were special occasion shoes."

"Did she wink at you lecherously after she said that?"

A pause. "I assumed she had something in her eye."

I threw my arms up in exasperation. "After this, I'm getting you laid."

"While I'm flattered by your interest, I -"

"Not by me!"

"Than by who?"

"I don't know! John?"

John paused on his way to the kitchen. "What about me?"

I pivoted to face him, ignoring his suddenly wide eyes when he saw me. Thanks. "John, darling, would you or would you not have sex with your flat mate?"

He blushed. "Well, er, I appreciate the offer and everything, but-"

I threw my hands in the air again. "Not me! Jesus, why does everyone think I'm propositioning them today?"

Sherlock spoke up. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you are currently in only lace underclothes and an open dressing gown."

I spun back toward him with one hand on my hip and poked him in the chest with the other. "There is no room for your logic and reasoning in this household."

"Tell that to the bills it pays."

"John pays the bills! And I pay my own!"

"Just put on the shoes!"

"No!"

"John!"

John threw his hands up. "Just fuck already!"

We slowly swiveled toward him. I smiled sweetly and stepped forward. "Care to repeat that, darling?"

There's something about making a military man cower that makes you feel empowered. Is this what Adler feels like?

I went and put the dress on, along with the stripper heels. May as well play.

When we got back, I fell straight onto Sherlock's bed.

Sherlock hovered over me disapprovingly. "You had sex with the Woman."

I nodded into his pillow, my throat too tired.

He crossed his arms. "You also, somehow, managed to get a flash drive from between her breasts and swallow it without her knowing."

I lifted my head and croaked. "It wasn't between her breasts."

He tilted his head. "Than where-?"

I looked pointedly at his crotch.

His eyes widened. "What was your mouth-"

I raised an eyebrow.

He made a rather uncomfortable face before basically running from the room. "Brush your teeth!"

I snorted and took the flash drive, which was now not disgustingly covered in bodily fluids, from my bra and smiled before going to the living room and dropping it down Sherlock's collar. I then went to the bathroom on still wobbly legs, brushed my teeth, showered, and went to bed.


End file.
